Excuses
by Patrick the Stump
Summary: Were Albus' cousins really stupid enough to believe that Scorpius had just happened to accidentally fall, half-naked, into Albus' bed? Apparently so.


**AN:** This is for Livvi – your Merthur is coming, I promise, but that much awesome of epic proportion needs time and knowing me it won't be ready until Christmas. But here, have some cute AlScor instead. Happy belated birthday! `

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**Excuses**

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Roxanne, aged eleven and a half – because yes, the half _did_ really matter – was standing outside her older cousin's bedroom door in complete befuddlement. Roxanne had barged into Albus' room at The Burrow every morning since Albus had gotten here ten days ago. She failed to see how this morning could be any different, except, of course, from the fact that the door to her cousin's room had been firmly bolted shut. She glared at the door, as if she was trying to open it with her mind. She was actually a little hurt that Albus had locked her out – he hadn't seemed to mind her visiting him on a morning. She was his favourite cousin after all – he'd told her so himself, and everything. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why he didn't want her in his room. With built up anger and confusion, Roxanne pushed against the door, hard, and to her surprise, it flew open. Roxanne stormed in, giving Albus her best Grandma Weasley scowl.

"Albus Severus Potter," Roxanne said, angrily, crossing her arms over her frilly dress that had once belonged to Victoire. She glared at the bed. The glare quickly turned from anger to confusion, and then to glee.

"Scorpius," she squealed, jumping up and down, flailing her arms in the air, "You weren't supposed to get here until this afternoon!" She ran over to hug the boy, who was clutching the duvet around himself very, very tightly.

She stepped back, and turned to Albus, who was beside him, "Why is he here, he wasn't supposed to come until noon," her eyes narrowed, "and why is he in your bed?"

"There was a communication error," stuttered Albus, pulling the sheet up further to cover his bare chest, "Scorpius arrived last night and I didn't want to wake everyone up, but his bed wasn't made, so he had to sleep with me… I mean, next to me." Albus was blushing now. There was no way Roxanne would believe that bullshit – she was almost twelve, for merlin's sake. But Roxanne just smiled, "I better go and tell Grandma you're here, then," she battered her eyelids at Scorpius and skipped out of the room.

Scorpius just looked at Al – who was now the colour of beetroot – in both bewilderment and bemusement. He shuffled out of bed, pulling on his jeans as he did so.

"Close call," he smirked to Albus, who couldn't hear him through the pillow he was, at that moment, burying his face into.

/

Albus had stumbled into his pyjamas and followed Scorpius down the stairs to breakfast.

"Scorpius," said Mrs Weasley, waddling over to where he stood, hugging him warmly, "It's lovely to see you again – you should've woken me when you arrived. I can't imagine sleeping in Albus' bed would've been very comfortable."

Albus blushed, but luckily, all eyes were trained on Scorpius, who just smiled and said, "Honestly, Mrs Weasley, it was fine."

She ushered Scorpius into a chair at the huge breakfast table, which had somehow expanded with age to accommodate all of the Weasley-Potters, along with a few extras that usually included Scorpius and the Scamander twins. Not everyone was here this morning, though; just Mr and Mrs Weasley, Albus, Lily, Roxanne, Freddie and James – though the latter didn't exactly count, as he'd fallen asleep in his porridge bowl several minutes previous of Scorpius and Albus' arrival. Scorpius would be staying with the Weasleys for the rest of the week, to keep Al company while his parents, along with Audrey and Percy, were on holiday in Romania. Not that Albus really needed the company, what with the constant flow of Weasley children and grandchildren alike, popping in and out, usually for food or favours, but Scorpius was always welcome at The Burrow.

Albus sat himself down beside Scorpius, while Mrs Weasley fussed over how pale the blond was looking and how long his hair was getting, although it still barely reached his chin.

Albus sent a grin at Scorpius, who rolled his eyes. Scorpius didn't exactly like being fussed over, but Mrs Weasley was an exception. His own grandmother had died before he was born and Molly had so readily filled that gap. Before he'd known it, he'd found himself fitting in as part of the Weasley-Potter family. He liked it, to be part of something that big and wonderful and strange. He liked Albus the best though, he mused, playing with his best friend's hand underneath the table.

"Oi," yelled James, from across the table. He yanked his eyes and his hand away from Albus.

"Pass the ketchup," James grunted, and Scorpius chucked the ketchup and him, narrowly missing his head. James mumbled something that was half thanks, half annoyance, and began to shovel his bacon and eggs into his mouth.

Lily smiled widely from across the table at Scorpius, "So Scorpius, where are you sleeping." Albus snorted as Lily batted her eyelashes.

"The furthest possible bedroom away from you," James told her, pointing an accusing finger at Scorpius, "Isn't that right?"

"I'm sleeping in Al's room," he told her, ignoring James.

James nodded, "Good, Albus won't let him touch her, will you, Al?"

Lily pouted - a rather unappealing look on her already too heavily made up face.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Albus chuckled, feeling Scorpius smirk beside him.

It took Scorpius a while to eat his breakfast, due to the onslaught of questions from the Weasley family. The constant hum of, 'So, how're you' and 'Eat up Scorpius, you're looking very thin' was driving Albus insane. He needed some time alone with Scorpius – he hasn't spoken to him properly for almost three weeks. Scorpius had been on holiday with his parents, and then he was forced to help clean out his mother's old house for a few days. They'd written, of course, and they had talked a little last night. Not much though – there had been more pressing matters than just talking.

"May I be excused, Mrs Weasley," Scorpius said, his voice polite and silky smooth, "It's just that I got in so late last night that I didn't have time to freshen up."

Mrs Weasley smiled at him, "Of course you can, dear."

Scorpius left the table, squeezing Albus's thigh dangerously close to crotch in a way that sent the dark haired boy's heart racing. He flushed bright red underneath his mop of hair, and tried his very best not to watch Scorpius as he left. He failed miserably.

Albus wolfed down the rest of his breakfast, practically inhaling his bacon and eggs, and rose from the table quickly, "I've got to…" he didn't even finish his sentence before he hurried out of the kitchen door in search of Scorpius. He heard the distant trickle of a tap, and made his way to the bathroom. He tried the handle, which was locked, so he knocked loudly, on the verge of breaking down the door.

"Who is it?" He heard Scorpius' voice muffled by toothpaste and water.

"It's me," Albus said, trying to door handle again, "Let me in"

"I'm brushing my teeth," Scorpius said, and he heard a gargling sound, "I'll be out in a second."

Albus sighed, and tried the handle once again, rattling it this time, "Scorpius, let me in right now."

Albus heard Scorpius sigh and spit the water from his mouth. He unlocked the door, and Albus was in the room within a second, kissing the blond boy ferociously. Scorpius tilted his head to the side, enabling himself to breathe, and Albus turned his attention the boy's neck instead. Scorpius chuckled throatily, backing up against the sink as Albus advanced further, running his hand underneath his shirt.

"Calm down Al," Scorpius' voice was a little dryer than he intended, as the dark haired boy began to undo his buttons.

"Not here," he muttered into the boy's hair, "Your family could walk in at any moment."

Albus's hands stopped working on his buttons, and instead wrapped around Scorpius' neck. He pulled his lips away from his throat so as to look the blond straight in the eye.

"I missed you," he said, simply, and kissed him deeply. For Scorpius at least, it felt like their first real kiss since he'd got here. Despite himself, he groaned, entwining his hands in Albus' hair. Scorpius had missed this too. Really, really missed it.

The door opened, and Albus bolted to the other side of the room, praying that whoever had walked in was a) partially blind, b) an idiot, and c) not James. Unfortunately, only the second was true.

"What's going on?" James said, staring at his brother suspiciously, "I need the loo."

"I was helping Scorpius," Albus said, looking around wildly for an excuse, "He has a rash, and he needed me to check that it wasn't Dragon Pox."

Scorpius looked at Albus – a rash, _really_ – but nodded half-heartedly in agreement anyway, and James looked at him for the first time.

"So that's why his shirt's undone?" James asked.

"Yes," said Albus, grabbing the alibi enthusiastically, "That's exactly why his shirt's undone."

James looked at them both, Albus blushing furiously and Scorpius with his shirt unbuttoned to his navel. He really wasn't stupid enough to believe them, was he?

"I'll use the other toilet then," James said, leaving the bathroom, "I don't want to catch dragon pox." He scuttled out of the door and along the hall. They waited until they heard the door slam shut before they spoke.

"Did that really just happen?" laughed Scorpius nervously, "Did he really just believe us?" He laughed louder, and even Al, who was positively mortified, let out a small, shaky chuckle.

"That was a close call," Albus said, shaking his head and kissing Scorpius gently before leaving, "Maybe it's a good idea if you try not to pounce on me every ten minutes, Scorpius. I understand that I'm impossible to resist, but really, please control yourself around my family."

"Excuse me?_ I_ need to control myself? I was only brushing my bloody teeth, and you practically jumped me!" Scorpius said, as he was pulled from the bathroom by Albus, who was shaking his head in disagreement.

/

If there was one thing that never failed to surprise Scorpius, it was the sheer amount of things to do at the burrow. There was always someone needed to feed the chickens or de-gnome the garden or get rid of _another _ghoul in the attic. Before he knew it, it was tea-time, and he'd barely seen Al all day. That could've been to do with the fact that he'd spent most of his afternoon hiding from Lily, who'd been trying without much luck to ambush him. He was peeling the potatoes for Mrs Weasley when he caught sight of Albus' tiny pigmy owl perched on the window. Trying not to attract the attention of Mrs Weasley, which was easy as she was singing loudly to what seemed to be one of her favourite Celestina Warbeck songs, he untangled the letter from the owl's leg and unfolded the raggedy parchment.

_Just finished de-gnoming the far end of the garden,_

_get out of any work you're being forced into and _

_come find me,_

_Al_

Scorpius grinned, pocketing the note. It wasn't that he didn't want to help Mrs Weasley, because he was honestly grateful to her for letting him stay over and he was definitely okay on doing his bit, but he hadn't had a proper, uninterrupted conversation with Albus in what felt like forever, and now was the perfect opportunity. He'd peeled more than enough potatoes to last him a life time, anyway.

Swooning dramatically, Scorpius clutched the worktop, trying his very best to look pale, which wasn't that hard really.

"Woah," he said, staggering a little, "I went a bit dizzy for a moment, I feel a little sick."

Mrs Weasley peered over at him in concern, "Are you ill, Scorpius, do you need to go lie down? I can whip you up a quick sickness potion, if you need one."

"I'll be fine," he reassured her, standing up a little straighter; "I just think I need some fresh air." He headed towards the door, "I'll be right back, I just need to cool down a little."

"Take as much time as you need," Mrs Weasley said, smiling as she took over his potato-peeling duties.

He straightened up fully as he walked outside, breaking into a jog once he was out of sight of the kitchen window. He saw Albus almost immediately, sitting cross legged right next to the back-garden fence, amongst the long, unkempt grass and weeds. Involuntarily, Scorpius smiled.

"Hey," Albus said, beaming at Scorpius as he collapsed onto the floor beside him, "You managed to find an excuse to sneak out then, then?"

"Yeah," Scorpius laughed, leaning back onto the grass, "I'm very, very ill, and I needed to take a walk outside to cool off."

"Poor you," Albus murmured, running a hand through the blonde's hair. Scorpius closed his eyes in approval.

"How have things been – I feel as if we haven't had a chance to talk properly in a while," Albus asked, still playing with Scorpius' hair.

"Fine – sorting out my mum's house was a nightmare though, I think I've developed asthma from all of the dust," he coughed, rather falsely, as if to prove a point.

"Maybe if you can't breathe, it'll shut you up for once," Albus said, patting Scorpius' head absentmindedly.

"I can think of much better ways to do that," Scorpius smiled, propping himself up on his elbows, pulling Al towards him, pressing their lips together.

"Albus?" said Fred's voice from behind them. Merlin, not again.

Albus screwed up his eyes shut, preying for some solution. Scorpius tensed up in his arms, thinking exactly the same thing.

"He's not breathing," Albus said, hoping his voice sounded panicked, not just incredibly embarrassed, "CPR isn't working, Fred, go get help."

He heard Fred turn on his heels and run towards the house.

"What the actual hell?" Scorpius said, half laughing, "Theirs is now way – no way – he believed I was dying. I mean, I had my hands tangled in your hair, for Merlin's sake, and I'm pretty sure a dead body can't kiss like that."

"Shut up," Albus said, rolling his eyes, "Look like you've just recovered from a near-death experience – the others are coming." Albus backed away from Scorpius a little, trying to looked distressed.

"Scorpius?" Mrs Weasley yelled, "Scorpius dear, are you alright? You gave us quite a shock – is your breathing okay – is your heart feeling fine."

"I'm fine, Mrs Weasley," Scorpius said, trying his best to look distraught, but in Albus' opinion, he just came across rather adorably dishevelled.

"Fred said you weren't breathing," Mrs Weasley felt the blonde's forehead, and then his pulse, as if to just doubly check that he wasn't a ghost.

"It was-" Scorpius started, looking around for an excuse.

"And asthma attack," Albus offered, and Scorpius nodded.

"Dragon Pox and an asthma attack all in one day? You have been in the wars, haven't you? Come on, Scorpius, we'll take you back inside. You need to rest."

/

Scorpius had been locked in Al's room, under quarantine now, for four hours. Mrs Weasley had made him some of her special chicken soup, and the blonde prat was living it up, reading comics and lounging about while Albus was made to wash up on his own.

"Just going to the toilet," Al said, pushing past his family who were still gathered around the table.

"Yeah," Fred said, grinning, "The toilet. _Right._ I'm sure he won't be too happy with that codename."

Albus stopped dead in his tracks, "What on earth are you talking about?"

"He really thinks we don't know," chuckled Roxanne, "For merlin's sake, Albus, I'm not that stupid – I'm eleven and a half."

Albus turned to face his family, his cheeks slowly reddening – something he'd inherited from his mother, "I really don't know what you're talking about."

"We know, Al," James smiled.

"Know what?" Albus said, his voice shaking a little, his cheeks practically a flame.

"That you and that blonde idiot," he gestured upstairs, "Are – what's the right term for it? Lovers? Boyfriends? Raging homosexuals?"

Al spluttered, looking towards his grandma. She just raised her eyebrows, "Go on then, go find him."

Albus had never exited a room so swiftly in his life.

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**AN:** I'm a review whore so you know, review. Don't favourite without doing so, either, please.


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